


Saudade

by spac3dcadet



Series: Bellarke One Shots [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, idk - Freeform, might delete, one shots, personal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 01:58:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11681622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spac3dcadet/pseuds/spac3dcadet
Summary: Saudade - a deep, nostalgic, and melancholic longing for something or someone, often accompanied with a denied fact that what one longs for will never come back.(I was listening to this song by Us the Duo when I wrote this.)Clarke has graduated from college - and now, she's leaving.  She has to meet with one person before she says goodbye to this life - an old FWB - someone she hasn't spoken to in a year.





	Saudade

**Author's Note:**

> Clarke's POV - this is actually a very personal story, and as I read it, I thought it'd be interesting to see it from my OTP's perspective. I hope you enjoy!

I was leaving, because I knew this place had nothing else to offer me.  I had six months before college would start asking for money - six months to find a new home.  I didn’t tell anyone that I was leaving.  I knew they’d ask me to stay, and then I wouldn’t ever leave this place.

 

There was one person I had to see before I said goodbye to this life.  He was my biggest weakness.  He contributed to my downfall, but he helped me gain confidence in myself - he helped me raise myself back up.  I had allowed myself to fall for him.  I’d hidden those feelings, until I couldn’t anymore.

 

We hadn’t been together in almost a year.  We’d gone our separate ways and never looked back.  Though, I’d be lying if I said I never thought about him.  I thought of him everyday, because he’d meant the world to me.

 

He had an odd schedule, so I knew when I messaged him that night, he probably wouldn’t respond.  I tried telling myself that it’d be okay if he didn’t, and it was probably for the best anyway.  However, just as I was throwing my last bag into the trunk of my car, my phone buzzed.  I told him to come over.  So he did.

 

This had been our routine.  When one wanted the other, we moved mountains to see each other.  We’d spend a few hours together, and then we’d go our separate ways until we decided to meet again.  There was no pressure, little jealousy, and no commitment.  It was nostalgic doing this again.

 

I wasn’t sure what I’d expected to see.  Deep down, I was hoping he’d look different.  Then maybe the pressure in my chest wouldn’t be there.  But he looked as I remembered him - tan, freckled, strong, and a smile that made my heart ache.  He held himself with confidence, maybe a little guarded.  Had he fallen in love before?

 

I wondered what he saw as I stepped onto the sidewalk in front of my apartment.  Could he tell I’d grown intellectually?  Could he see the change in my eyes?  How had he remembered me, and did I meet or pass his expectations?

 

He smiled as he approached, and I smiled back.  Suddenly, I was nineteen again, and we were sneaking out on our first late night sexcapade.

 

“Hi,” I said.

 

“How’s it going,” he greeted before pulling me into a hug.

 

“It’s been awhile,” I said, breathing him in.

 

“Too long,” he agreed.  “I missed you.”

 

We turned to walk inside.  “I missed you, too,” I said quietly.

 

It was like nothing had changed, no time had passed.  He was his usual happy self.  He asked about what I was doing now that I’d graduated, and I asked him how his work life was.

 

I offered him a beer.  We drank in my kitchen in silence.  I leaned against the counter while he observed the bare walls.  There were signs of pictures being hung up, but I’d taken them down.  He didn’t ask questions.

 

When he finished his beer, I took his can and set both of ours in the sink.  I started shaking - I knew what was coming.

 

I couldn’t wait.

 

Before I could turn back around to face him, I felt his body press up against mine.  He wrapped his arm around me and nuzzled my neck, letting out a sigh.  I leaned back into him.

 

“I missed you,” he whispered into my neck.

 

I smiled to myself before turning around.  I wrapped my arms around his waist and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.  “I missed you,” I told him.

 

He kissed me again, this time with fervor.  I could feel myself heating up.

 

We wasted no more time.  I pulled him into my bedroom, barely able to shut the door before we were at each other again.  He gave me playful, silly kisses as we found the bed, and I laughed.  This was what I loved most about us together - it was fun.  And it just felt  _ right _ .  We were always laughing, always smiling.  He made me happy.

 

When we were finished, we rested for a bit before starting again.  We had time to make up for.  And since this was our last time - though he didn’t know it yet - we had to make it count.

 

Once we were finished, we lay together.  I rested my head on his chest and nodded off.  Everything felt  _ right _ in this moment, like this was where we were supposed to be.  (Of course, that was probably the sex talking.)

 

I woke up a little bit later.  It was still dark outside, though the sun would be rising soon.  I got up, took a shower, then got dressed.  When I went back to the bedroom, he was stirring a little.  I packed up my toiletries and brought them out to my car.

 

He was up when I came back inside.  He stood in the kitchen wearing only his pants.

 

“Going somewhere?” he asked hoarsely.

 

“I’m leaving,” I told him.

 

“Where are you going?” he asked.

 

“Away.”

 

“For how long?”

 

“Forever.”

 

He was silent for a beat.  Then, “Why?”

 

“I belong somewhere else.”

 

“What makes you say that?”

 

“My soul,” I told him.  I didn’t expect him to understand.  I’d always felt a tug away from this town.  I was done ignoring my destiny.

 

He was silent for a long time before pulling his shirt over his head.  I tried to read him, but he kept his face expressionless.  I wanted him to beg me to stay, tell me that he loved me.

 

But he was silent.

 

My heart started cracking; the pieces I had mended after I’d accepted that he was no good for me - after I'd accepted that we'd never see each other again - broke.  My heart shattered into a million tiny pieces.

 

“You should leave,” I said.  My voice sounded strong, but I knew I was weak.

 

He walked to the door, each step making the hole in my chest ache.  He grabbed the doorknob, and hesitated.

 

“You don’t have to leave, you know,” he said softly.

 

Oh, but I did.  There was nothing left for me here.  My soul was being called away from this place.  But why did I feel as though I was doing something wrong?

 

Then, I remembered a conversation we’d had what felt like a lifetime ago.  My heart raced, my stomach churned, and my hands grew clammy.  I was nervous because this was the answer I’d searched for.

 

I called him by name as he opened the door.  _ Bellamy _ .  He stopped and looked at me.  “Do you want to run away with me?”

 

The light in his eyes was all the answer I needed.


End file.
